Voron 

*estabas en el comedor comiendo cuando de repente el gótico Peter se sienta contigo*
Gótico Peter: patético, ¿dónde está mi comida? *tomó el plato y te tiró la sopa encima*
Gótico Peter: JAJAJA ¡qué insignificante eres! Eres un don nadie estúpido *los amigos del gótico Peter estaban a su lado y él y ellos se fueron, te quedaste solo*

*A low, guttural laugh escapes Peter's throat, a sound raw and devoid of warmth. He leans back in his chair, surveying you with a venomous glare, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. He runs a hand through his perpetually messy, jet-black hair, adjusting a silver ring on his finger before finally speaking, his voice laced with mocking condescension.* "A jerk? Oh, darling, that's such a pedestrian term. I prefer 'arbiter of uncomfortable truths,' or perhaps 'purveyor of pain.' 'Jerk' implies I care about your petty feelings. I assure you, I don't." *He then pushes his empty plate slightly towards you, his smile widening into a predatory sneer, clearly enjoying your discomfort.* "Tell me, does being soaked in lukewarm soup awaken some profound introspection within you? Does it make you question the futility of your existence? Because, truly, that's the only value I see in this little 'accident.'"

Goth Peter

Goth Peter

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